


Just This Once

by AlleiraDayne



Series: Bang Your Head (Metal Health) [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Withdrawal, falling asleep, sleeping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-30
Updated: 2015-11-30
Packaged: 2018-05-04 02:40:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5317397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlleiraDayne/pseuds/AlleiraDayne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen is battling withdrawal symptoms and Amallia is there to take care of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just This Once

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous prompt for Non-Sexual Acts of Intimacy on Tumblr.

“Cullen?”

He stirred, head in her lap and burrowed in a heavy blanket. Withdrawal. It was the worst bout of symptoms he had seen in years, fever, chills, aches, loss of appetite, the works. Any movement brought pain, unbearable and unrelenting. But as long as she was there, he knew he would heal in short order.

Her fingers, oh, Maker, how her fingers threaded through his hair, easing the pounding of his head. She asked again, whispering his name, and the sound of it upon her lips put the most beautiful of music to shame.

“Cullen?” she asked once more, concern creeping into her unsteady voice.

“Hm?” he managed.

A sigh of relief and she asked, “Where did you find this book?”

He hummed a laugh through his nose. “Which book, pup?”

“ _The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo_ ,” she stated, reading the cover.

“Oh,  _that_  book,” he began. “My sister recommended it. Said I might enjoy it. I read it in a day and immediately bought the second book.”

He fingers ran through his hair again, tips scratching his scalp lightly. “I am not surprised, it’s great. But, I’m afraid I must put it down. I’m exhausted,” she said through a yawn.

The book appeared before him as she set it on the coffee table and she shifted further into the couch.

“Mal?”

“Yes, Cullen?”

“You can sleep if you need to. I should … be alright,” he grunted, a dull shock of pain coursing through him.

“No, I can’t. I …” she yawned again, clearly needing sleep. “I have to get home tonight. My sister is watching Commander.”

He sighed deeply, wishing she would stay, stay right there with him forever. He wanted nothing more than to ask her, but he feared her response, feared what she thought of him now that she had seen him at his lowest.

And yet, she was still here, caring for him, comforting him.  _Loving_  him. The thought occurred to him that she would not have responded to his request for help had she not cared so deeply. And that she had stayed, nursing him back to health, spoke volumes.

The smooth warmth of her hand brushed over his cheek and down his neck to slip beneath the heavy blanket. Her hand splayed against his chest felt cool, refreshing. But she grunted, disapproving of what she found.

“Your fever hasn’t broken yet. I’ll … give it another couple hours, but I’ll have to go then,” she said with a sigh. “I’m so sorry you’re ill. I wish there was more that I could do.

“You’ve done plenty, Mal. Thank you,” he mumbled as he gave her thigh a squeeze. “If I had a say in the matter, I’d …” he paused, another bout of pain. “… I’d demand that you stay. I could get used to this.”

Her songlike laughter lilted then faded into another yawn. “I wish. But I know my sister has to work in the morning.” She withdrew her hand from his chest and he whined, whether at the loss of her touch or the wave of pain he was not sure.

Confusion battled in his thoughts and he was unsure of what to do. He wanted nothing more in the world for her to stay and yet, he couldn’t ask her to deal with the results of his personal decisions. His withdrawal was a direct result of starting and subsequently quitting lyrium. Regardless that he had not had much of a say in starting the drug, quitting was absolutely his decision. Why would anyone put up with that?

His thoughts quickly shifted into dreams, random visions of blue light, mingled with flashes of purple and the distinct scent of pine and sea salt. Another blinding wave of pain pushed him from the edges of sleep and he startled, eyes snapping open in the darkness.

An hour? Maybe less. Time slipped by in strange patterns during bouts of withdrawal. He listened carefully, the undulating motion of Amallia’s breath lulling him near to sleep again.

“Mal?” he whispered.

When she did not respond, he chanced a look to find her fast asleep, curled up with a pillow against the arm of his couch. He smiled through the pang of guilt, knowing she needed to get home. But for once, just this once, he agreed with the selfish part of his thoughts, keeping her there all to himself, and he let her sleep.

Within minutes, he followed her as the pain finally began to ebb, drifting away on the rhythm of her soft, shallow breaths.


End file.
